Mad World
by Spirare
Summary: Can a seventy-two hour psych hold and a broken girl heal soul-deep wounds?  AH/OOC Rated T for now.


Title: Mad World

Pairing: Edward/Bella

Word Count: around 1300

Summary: Can a seventy-two hour psych hold and a broken girl heal soul-deep wounds?

Disclaimer: SM owns the characters. Any song lyrics used belong to their respective owners.

A/N: I'm not totally positive about this one, but I kinda like it. This first chapter is pretty short, but it's all I had written before I broke my hand. Nowhere Left to Run, Release and Malice in Wonderland are still my priorities, but if you could let me know what you think about the possibility of continuing, I'd appreciate it.

Also, this hasn't been beta'd. Sorry.

**Chapter One: The War at Home**

"_All around me are familiar faces _

_Worn out places, worn out faces _

_Bright and early for the daily races _

_Going nowhere, going nowhere"_

Private First Class Edward Masen stared at the cream colored walls of his new, near-barren apartment. The walls reminded him of the desert sand. He hated them. He'd been home, if you could call it that, for two weeks, three days and fourteen hours.

Ever since he was shot, one tiny, stray bullet shattering his knee. He would not be going back. Could not, would not, won't ever go back.

An honorable discharge.

But he would always be there. It would never leave him. It would follow him. Forever.

This is his war now. The daily grind of a "normal life." Here, in a sleepy little town in the pacific northwest, half a world away from where it began, where the war had engrained itself deep into his mind. It was a part of him. War. It was everywhere. There was no escape. Not even here.

This is the beast that he must battle daily.

On Tuesday morning, at approximately o-eight-hundred hours, a car backfired outside his apartment and suddenly there where enemy combatants, armed, dangerous.

Gun fire erupted around him. He was trapped in the desert with no escape. But he would not, could not go down without a fight. He threw whatever was in reach. He ducked behind the make shift barricade, trying desperately to make himself small enough. To make himself invisible.

More enemies arrived. He struggled and strained against them.

The battle was lost.

And that was when PFC Edward Masen lost control and blacked out.

He awoke in a white room, bandage, broken and groggy. For a moment he panics.

But there was no desert here. No enemies. No gunfire. It became a mantra, achant in his head. I'm safe. I'm safe. I'm safe.

The beast had been temporarily contained.

I'm safe. I'm safe. I'm safe.

The door swings open and Edward tenses. His first thought was to escape, but there were no windows, no way out.

"Hello, Mr. Masen. My name is Dr. Cullen. Do you know where you are?"

"Hospital," he answers as if the doctor was a complete and total idiot.

"Very good. Do you remember what happened? Why you are here?"

"I... I was back there. I-" It comes out a choked out near-sob. The real memories flooding back. At the very least, he thought they could be real, if not a bit fuzzy. Broken glass, a yell, a siren.

"It's okay, son," Dr. Cullen places a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We'll talk more later. For now I must inform you that you've been placed on a 51/50 and will be here for a mandatory seventy-two hours. I think it might be good for you to get up and around now. Why don't I give you like a little tour?"

Edward nods absently and follows the doctor into a bright space, surrounded by walls. A prison to keep the crazy out.

"Everywhere is a prison, it's only the bars that change," he thinks bitterly.

"Bella," Dr. Cullen sighs as a beautiful, young girl approaches them. "What happened?" He asks her as he takes in the large, angry bruise that is now forming across her cheek.

"I thought it was a good solution hanging with the raisin girls." She shrugs as a nurse hands her an ice pack.

"Rosalie and Alice did this?" She doesn't answer. The doctor changes tactics, knowing he won't win this fight. "Edward, this is Bella. Bella, Edward."

She reaches out, wraps him in her warmth. She is all arms and love and big, chestnut-brown eyes.

"Bella," the good doctor warns. He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. For a moment Edward wonders if this is the girl's normal behavior. That is, until she looks into his eyes and speaks.

"I could put my arms around every boy I see," she tells Edward, ignoring Dr. Cullen. Her eyes take in the brief flicker of his sadness and she continues with a smile. "But they'd only remind me of you."

"Izzy?" Edward questions, for surely it cannot be her.

"Do you two know each other?" The doctor ponders, taking in the scene before him.

Bella cocks her head, squints, traces the lines of Edward's cheek. "I turn off the lights, the TV and the radio, still I can't escape the ghost of you."

"I'm not a ghost," He feels like a ghost. "What happened, Izzy? Why are you here?"

Bella looks at him, searching. For answers. For questions. For words.

But there is only silence.

"Do you mind if I explain to Edward, Bella?" Dr. Cullen asks the girl.

"Pour my life into a paper cup. The ashtray's full and I'm spilling my guts," she tells him seriously.

"Bella has decided to only speak using music lyrics." He lowers his voice. "You get used to it."

"But why?"

"Things ain't cooking in my kitchen," she giggles, tapping the side of her forehead.

"That's not true, Bella. We've discussed this," the doctor scolds.

Bella ignores him, turning to face Edward. "I've seen more broken hearts than you can count the bullets in a war."

Edward had seen all too much war, but he wouldn't bet against the look in Bella's haunted eyes. He desperately wants to wrap her up, keep her in his coat pocket.

"I don't understand, Izzy. Why? What happened?"

"We don't really know, Edward." It's Dr. Cullen that answers. "She was found wandering, half-naked, bloodied and broken in the snow. She won't or can't tell us how she got there. At first the staff thought the lyrics were nonsensical. It's only recently that we've begun to realize this is how she communicates."

Edward clenches his fists. Who could do this to such a beautiful girl?

At that moment, the enemies at home seem much worse than the enemies half a world away. The war was everywhere. Maybe not his war, or _the_ war, but war just the same.

"They told me you ran away," he whispers against her hair.

She pulls back to look at him and smiles. It lights up the room. "You think I'd leave your side, baby?" She grins and slaps his chest playfully. "You know me better than that."

"I've missed you so much, baby girl." Edward holds her tighter.

"Bella's doing quite good here," the doctor interrupts.

"And it's a sin, to live so well," she deadpans, rolling her eyes.

"Are you living, Bella? Truly?" Dr. Cullen questions, a bit harshly.

"You're obsessed with all my secrets, you always make me cry." And she does. Cry, that is. Edward wants to hit him, wants to make the tears stop.

"Don't be sad, cornflake girl," Edward says, kisses the top of her head.

"Think of tomorrow." She nods and wipes her face on the back of her arm. "We beg, steal or borrow all we can make in the sun."

"Bella, would you like to show Edward around?" Dr. Cullen asks.

"It's a one way ticket to a madman situation," Bella says, grinning and pulling Edward by the hand.

A/N: I know, I know. Me writing and E/B fic? Just give it time. Personally, I blame BellaFlan for writing such terrific E/B fuckery. If you haven't read her work, do so now. It's brilliant.

Hit the review button and let me know your thoughts.


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